Page 36 of Wasted On Us

He looks up at me, pushing away his now-empty plate. “I’m sorry?”

It took us a while to get ready for dinner, between all of the hand touching and constant kissing. By the time we left the cabin, the bars were packed and most of the restaurants were closing up for the night. Luckily, Lakeside Bistro still had a table to spare. And a delightful menu. We’ve eaten our way through just about every segment, but we’ve taken so long to do it that I could definitely go for dessert.

“Steaks.” The thought of our first date makes me smile to myself, until I’m aware of the near-empty restaurant. Just like last time, there’s only one other table left in the place. And it looks like he’s getting out his wallet. “Eating steaks and being the second-to-last people in a restaurant.”

“We can’t keep making a habit out of this,” Mateo laughs, motioning for our waiter to bring us the check. I know he means making a habit out of annoying our waiters, but I can’t help but feel saddened by the reminder of how rare and special this weekend is. It’s just the little push I need.

“C’mon.” I stand, brushing out the wrinkles from my dress and reaching for Mateo’s hand. “We’ve only got three days. Let’s not spend any more time sitting indoors than we need to. The weather’s spectacular, and we need to be enjoying it.”

It may still be summer outside, but the weather is tempered by proximity to the water. A cool breeze caresses my shoulders every few minutes and gives the air a feeling of opportunity. As we look out over the lake walk, there are people everywhere. Fewer families and children as the night goes on, but the atmosphere is still friendly and welcoming. Music drifts out from the Moonlit Groove bar nearby, and we hear laughter and the sounds of a Friday night as we amble closer to a small amphitheater with a singer/songwriter type act currently on stage.

“Still want dessert?” There’s a small cluster of food trucks parked around the building, one of them advertising baked goods and sweets. Mateo gestures to it with his thumb and a sly smile.

“Do you even have to ask?”

He disappears into the crowd while I find a place for us to sit. All of the chairs are full, but there’s a bench off to the side, just big enough for two. While I wait, I watch the stars starting to pop out, so much easier to see here than in the city. I wonder if they look the same in my parents’ backyard, or if they’re just more breathtaking here because I’m with him. I don’t get much time to consider before he’s placing a perfectly scooped paper cup of stracciatella in my hands, complete with the requisite tiny spoon. Be still my heart.

“You know there’s a farmer’s market in the morning?” Mateo sits down next to me with a cup full of pistachio, the soft green shade instantly recognizable. “That’s what the girl at the gelato truck was telling me. It’s right here along the lake walk. Said there’s a stand there with really good espresso.”

“How’d you know I love gelato?” The gelato itself is perfect, the texture rich and creamy in stark contrast to the crunch of the chocolate flakes.

“Please. You mentioned Italy more than once. Told me about the best place for Tiramisu—on a different continent. I figured you probably liked all things Italian.”

I have to laugh. How could I ever think my Italophilia was subtle? I might as well get the Tricolore stamped on my forehead and put ‘ciao!’ on the back window of my car.

“You’re so right.”

We go quiet for a moment, enjoying our dessert and listening to the sounds of the music echoing, interspersed with the chatter of the crowd.

“How long were you there?” Mateo asks softly as if he’s afraid the question is too private.

“A semester, then another six weeks to travel around Europe after the semester ended.”

“I’m not sure how you came back. I’d love to go.”

It wasn’t hard to leave. Not on the note that I left with my heart shattered into a million pieces. “Be careful who you go with. It can change the entire experience.”

“Oh. I take it you had a bad one?”

I push my spoon around in the fast-melting dessert, not wanting to meet the question head-on. But I want to be honest with him. I can’t hide any part of myself from him if I’m going to be busy hiding the way I feel about him from the entire world. That would just tear me right in two.

“I was sent with another student, Rick. We made plans to travel together on the weekends and then travel all over Europe together for another six weeks. We… were more than friends.” Mateo recoils slightly at the admission. I detect jealousy on his face, and I’m surprised by how much I enjoy seeing it there. I don’t think Rick would’ve cared if I talked about another guy. “I thought we were in love. He corrected that assumption when he had sex with a waitress from our favorite bistro. I thought we were going to be together forever. He correctedthatassumption too when he told me he wanted her instead of me. So, I ended up coming home alone while he stayed there with her.”

I know that it’s a big country, and they are just two people among millions. Hell, I know that with his track record, they probably aren’t even together anymore, and she’s just as bitter as I am. But the entire experience of having to leave with my tail between my legs and my heart in my throat, makes me feel as if Italy belongs to him now. He won. I lost. And the spoils are his to keep forever.

Mateo brings a hand to my shoulder, gently stroking my skin with his thumb. “What were you going to do? If you didn’t have to leave?”

“I thought that after I finished my last semester, I’d become a translator and move there permanently.” I can’t remember the last time I told anyone this. It feels ridiculous the second it crosses my lips. Shaking my head, I let my hair fall across my face like a curtain. “It was a silly dream.”

He pulls me back against his chest as he drapes his arm around my shoulders in a hug. “Dreams are awesome. You just need someone better to dream with.”

“I’m not built for that anymore. I learned my lesson. I shut that down.” Tears well in the corner of my eyes, and I brush them away with the back of my hand, careful not to smudge my mascara. I dreamed that I could be happy with Mateo, that a perfect guy could just show up in the middle of an afternoon and sweep me off my feet. But it turns out that I can’t have that either. All I can do is sneak around and pretend that we aren’t taking risks by even seeing each other. “Reality always wins.”

“Time for a new lesson,” he whispers, planting a soft kiss along the side of my face.

“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?”

“Putting. If you’re up for it.” He shoots me a toothy grin, standing from the bench and offering me his hand. “I haven’t played minigolf since I was ten, but I’m sure that I’ve still got it.”

---